letters to nowhere
by bellmare
Summary: even though they were nobodies, there was still that spark. —Axel/Larxene. Discontinued.
1. shield

**overture. **_Despite the fact that I've never actually played the main Kingdom Hearts series (in fact, the first ever KH game I ever finished was 358/2 Days, heh), I'll readily admit that Organisation XIII is what drew me to the games. I love them collectively and as a whole (and no, nothing against Sora, even if he decimated most of 'em; after all, he was doing what he had to do), and though my all-time favourite member is probably Saïx, the only real pairing I support is Larxel. Sadly, there just doesn't seem to be enough love for that pairing, something I plan on remedying. Without further ado, I present to you 'Letters to Nowhere', a 100 Theme Challenge centred around the dynamic pairing of Axel and Larxene. Enjoy!_

**prologue.**

prompt - - - 001. shield

genre - - - friendship, humour

rating - - - T (coarse language)

synopsis - - - _A metallic _click_ echoed through the arena. "R is for reload," Xigbar drawled, aiming his rifle-arrowgun at her head; she froze, eyes widening. "Looks like I'm going hunting today, Wildcat. Let's see how you dance!"_

disclaimers - - - I do not in any way, shape or form own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction (much to my eternal dismay and perpetual chagrin).

**- - x x x x x - -**

They often said that the transition from human to Nobody was sometimes traumatic, and the changed being had a tendency to forget who they were, before their memories took root. He had seen it happen in Demyx, who had lounged around aimlessly until, on the third evening, he had summoned his sitar for the first time and then began to strum, as though in a trance. He had seen it in Marluxia, who had only gazed blankly up to the other Organisation members, perched on their towering thrones as Xigbar introduced him to them.

Not Aerlen, however. Everything about her was the same, from her posture – determinedly upright, head raised, eyes challenging all those who met her stare – to her voice, when she sought him out, almost tentatively bringing up memories from their shared past, memories he had thought were long gone.

Whilst it had taken Luxord about a week to produce a deck of cards and propose a game of Blackjack, Larxene had taken it upon herself to challenge Xigbar to a duel just two days after arriving in the Castle That Never Was.

In hindsight, Axel mused from the stands, this really shouldn't have been a surprise. Even as a human, the feisty blonde had always bitten off a great deal more than she could chew, and had no qualms about challenging authority, even long after he and Isa had given up. Casting a sidelong glance towards Luxord, he elbowed the gambler in the ribs, a smirk spreading across his features. "Who's your money on?"

Number X chuckled. "I would say they are both fairly evenly matched, though Xigbar presumably has something of an advantage here."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"He's been a Nobody for a lot longer than the little lady has, ergo he is undoubtedly better-versed with his skills and capabilities."

"Hmm…well, first, Larxene wouldn't take too kindly to being called a 'little lady'. And secondly, good point." Axel watched as the sniper levitated upside-down, greying ponytail dangling southwards as he shot a volley of laser arrows at Larxene, who flattened her body to the ground, before leaping upwards. "Poor Kitten, she must nearly be at the end of her tether. Though she's been able to dodge all of his shots, the poor thing hasn't even been able to land a decent hit on Xiggy." It was true. Whilst Xigbar was having the time of his life merely evading and dodging the blonde's increasingly erratic swipes and slashes, he looked almost entirely at ease, in contrast to her escalating anger and frustration at not being able to reach him. "It's like watching a cat try to catch a canary. A canary who can warp away as soon as kitty's about to pounce on it—woah, woah, shit, what was that?"

In a sudden surge of movement, Larxene had darted forwards, knives poking out from between her fingers as she executed a vicious uppercut; the gunner, in a desperate attempt to dodge, fired a volley of shots at her. The Nymph staggered back, winded and hissing an explosive curse at the sting of her fresh wounds, whilst Xigbar warped away to a safer distance, checking his right arm. "Damn, Kitten, you're good," he said, surveying the damage to his coat, and squinting at the line of gashes on his forearm. "Better than good, I'd say."

She bared her teeth in a mocking sneer. "_Why_, thank you."

"Now _this_ is something I'll have to report to the Superior," the gunner said, half to himself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Kitten."

"Don't _call_ me _that_!" She was upright in a heartbeat, teleporting recklessly across the arena; Xigbar's head swivelled this way and that as he attempted to track her progress, the beginnings of a curse rising to his lips. The onlookers chortled under their breaths.

"Oh dear," Luxord said drolly. "Looks like—"

"Looks like the shit has hit the fan, yes," Axel finished for him, watching as the wild-eyed Savage Nymph sped across the arena. "You sure you don't wanna reconsider the bet?"

"Oh, Axel. Always the eloquent gentleman—"

"Shit!" the sniper growled under his breath, as he tilted his head to the side; Axel could now see he plainly lamented the fact that he only had one eye, as it became harder and harder to pinpoint the blur of movement that was Larxene. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_!" With each explosive oath, Xigbar fired a round of shots at the direction of the blur, until the empty _snick, snick_ of a blank chamber cut short his increasingly colourful swearing. "Oh, _crap_."

It was then that Larxene chose to make her move; moving with all the supple grace of a panther, she teleported away from the fringes of the chamber, knives at the ready to carve the gunner several more scars; suddenly, a sharp, metallic _click_ echoed throughout the arena, a sound which froze Axel's blood.

"R is for reload," Xigbar drawled lazily, grinning as he aimed through the sights of his sniper rifle, the barrel of the arrowgun pointed at the Nymph's head; she stopped short, eyes widening. His leer broadened, making the scarred man bear an uncanny resemblance to a shark which had scented blood; the crosshairs of his rifle sights settled squarely in the middle of Larxene's forehead, and his finger rested almost lovingly on the trigger. "Playtime's up, sweetie. Looks like I'm goin' hunting today, Wildcat." A brief silence followed as the two combatants eyed each other: the blonde panting as she glared at the barrel of the combined Sharpshooter, and the greying senior Nobody snickering as he aimed at her, upside-down and merrily defying gravity. "_Let's see how you dance!_"

"What the shit—?" Axel rose to his feet, but it was too late; the space above the Nymph's head began to twist and warp, and the sniper only chuckled in response. Without thinking, the flame-haired Nobody vaulted down the stands, running towards the middle of the arena; just as the first salvo of shots rained down from the distorted space above their heads, he summoned his weapons in a whirl of flames, shielding Larxene from the brunt of the attack, and surrounding them with a protective barrier of fire.

Upturned face illuminated by the glow of flames, she regarded him suspiciously with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing—?"

Before he could answer, the onslaught of laser bullets seemed to ease; the fire vanished, and Axel straightened, glaring balefully at the gunner. "You bastard! I never expected you to be so serious about this! Since when were _you_ ever serious about _anything_?"

"Now, really, Xigbar! That was hardly fair!" Luxord, too, sounded concerned, though nowhere near as angry as Number VIII was; if anything, he seemed vaguely bemused, and hugely intrigued. "It's one thing to be dealt a favourable hand by circumstance, but if I could be so frank, I would say this counts as _cheating_."

"If Kitten wants to stay in our ranks, she's got to prove herself first. We've gotta keep up with appearances, y'know. The Organisation consists only of the best Nobodies, and you know that as well as I do." Xigbar's response was indifferent as he dropped back to earth, landing on his feet with all the nonchalance of a cat, and simultaneously dismissing his weapons. "Relax, I just used her challenge as the grounds on which to test her skills."

"He is correct." Lexaeus said gravely from where he sat, surveying the battle below with an inscrutable expression, and disregarding the started look Number X cast him; it seemed he had only just appeared on the scene, in time to see the tail end of the initiation test. "It was always a tradition of sorts to assess the abilities of new recruits in a mock to-the-death match."

Axel hissed from between his teeth. "Damn it, Lexaeus, I know that. But had I not stopped the trigger-happy old fart over there, we would have had to scrape up the last of Number XII from the tiles and into a _dustpan_. Hell, had I done nothing, she'd have been the fourth potential recruit we'd have lost." Too bad the impact of his words was lost when the other Nobody ignored him, proceeding to vanish into a dark portal he summoned.

"_Trigger-happy old fart_?" Xigbar echoed sardonically, crossing his arms as he swaggered towards Axel. "You'd wanna watch your mouth there, Flamesilocks, or you'll find that my trigger-happy old fingers will _slip_. Just a friendly warning between friends, ya know. But man, oh man, how mighty _unusual_ of you to jump to the rescue of _this _particular new recruit. _Most_ unusual indeed…" The tail end of his sentence trailed off as he, too, called forth a portal, disappearing from the arena. Luxord followed suit, clapping Axel on the shoulder as he left.

For the first – and, in hindsight, _not_ the last – time, Numbers VIII and XII stared at one another in the ensuing silence.

Finally, she chose to break it. "_What_ the _hell_ was that all about? And _why_ did you interrupt my battle?" The glare she gave him was very much the same as the one Aerlen used to, whenever he had done something especially stupid. Axel ran a gloved hand through his wildly-spiked hair, exhaling heavily through his nose.

"Long story, Kitten."

She bristled at that. "No thanks to _you_, now _everyone_ seems to be calling me _that_. What is _wrong_ with all of you? And so help me, you'd better tell me what this was all about, or else I'll—"

"Woah, woah, someone's especially snappy today." He sighed again, before gesturing towards the empty stands. "C'mon, siddown. Ya did a great job just now, by the way. I'm sure the boss-man'll be pleased to hear of that."

Larxene snorted softly at that, but followed silently in his wake, wincing slightly as she sat down. "Ugh, I have no _idea_ what those bullets are made of, but they hurt like _hell_ after a while."

He couldn't help feeling concerned for her. "Look, long stories can wait. Are ya sure you're okay? If not, we'll make a quick dash down to the—"

"_No_. I'm _fine_." She jabbed him in the chest with her index finger as she spoke. "So whatever it is you were going to say, spit it out. Now."

"Well, okay. It goes like this. The Organisation consists of only the most powerful of Nobodies, and for a while now, the boss-man – that's Xemnas, by the way. Commit that name to memory – has been looking to recruit new people. So, we're still a few numbers short, and every time we find a potential member, we test 'em, in some way or another."

The blonde frowned thoughtfully at his words. "So…today…when I challenged Xigbar, he was just looking for an excuse to examine my skills?"

"Pretty much, yes. Though we usually wait about a week or so, to allow the newbies to get used to their new powers and all that."

"Hmph." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, expression brightening suddenly. "So…wait. That means even Demyx had to go through this?"

"Yeah. Most of us did. That was a nightmare, man. I had to fight Xigbar as well, which was the hugest pain in the ass ever. He was _everywhere _and then _nowhere_, and it was annoying as fuck to hit him…though in the end I got lucky and brained him with a long-range shot. Mostly it's him, Xaldin, Lexaeus, Saïx and yours truly that do the assessments, and let me tell you, none of us are the sorta guys you want to be up against. Like I said, had you gotten the full brunt of old Xiggy's last attack, you'd have been yet another…uh, failed recruit, so to speak."

"I see." Larxene looked thoughtful, and seemed to have forgotten her earlier anger. "How typical of you to include yourself in _that_ demographic," she added almost sourly, glaring at him sidelong. He chuckled in response, ruffling her bright blonde hair. "Stop that," she added warningly, as static crackled under his fingertips; he pulled back, looking shocked.

"Shit, what was that?" Axel gingerly reached forwards to rub the top of her head again, only to nearly have himself electrocuted. "Damn. Looks like we have a real sparkplug on our hands now, huh? Man, I gotta report that to ol' Xiggy so he can give the Superior the full low-down."

She ignored him. "So…the last person to do this assessment…was Marluxia?"

"Yep. He was up against Xaldin. They were at it, hammer and tongs, for _ages_, until Marly got lucky and managed to jam his scythe between Xaldin's lances when he was blocking a hit, and then disarmed him. It was a pretty good move, too, though Marluxia didn't manage to land a scratch on him. Xaldin's got mad skills with those lances of his, and even after four had been knocked out of his reach, he managed to block Marly's next attack, easy-pie."

"Ugh. So that means Xigbar's probably going to tell Xemnas I _failed_ as well, since I barely even managed to _touch_ him. And then it's hello, Dusk-dom."

"Aww, Kitten, don't be like that! You got him good, and he's probably off telling the boss-man how much punch you can pack, even if you're not that beefy. Y'know why his last attack wasn't that on-the-mark, and seemed to miss us by miles at times? It's 'cause you injured his dominant arm, and it threw his aim off."

Larxene blinked at him, that familiar, slow smile spreading across her face. "Heh, if you say so. Well then, looks like you're going to be stuck with me for the rest of our Nobody lives, huh? Can't say I'd object too much."

He grinned back at her. "Well, well, this is a far cry from that angry little rant you had yesterday, about how you thought everyone here was boring." He paused, smile fading slightly. "After all, all of us here are men without hearts."

The blonde sniffed haughtily. "I can't conclusively say anything on the others, but I suppose you aren't half bad."

And _that_, Axel decided, was how their new odyssey began. So it seemed, no matter which life they led, be it their childhoods back in the Radiant Garden, or now, in the bleakness of the World That Never Was, they would always end up finding and antagonising one another.

Just like how it was meant to be.

**- - x x x x x - -**

**epilogue. **_Lol, yes, I managed to turn a nice, easy prompt into something quite irrelevant. I do think it makes for quite the nice starting point to this whole series, though, because it makes it easy to jump backwards and forwards along the timeline. And, aw man, yay for cameos from several other Org. members! I love Xigbar, I swear, he's so awesome. Surfer ninja pirate dude, hell yeah! Of course, to get some of the references here (as well as to understand my skewed timeline), you'll probably have to refer back to my other Larxel fic, _Claws_. This basically takes place one day after Larxene meets Axel in the Organisation for the first time (chapter two, I believe), but a few weeks before the friendly match they had in chapter one. Confusing, yes? Yes. Sorry about that._

_Thanks for reading, and be sure to keep your eyes peeled for updates! Haha. Let's see how long it takes for me to finish this. *u* Even if I have the tendency to write laughably long one-shots._


	2. eternal

**prologue.**

prompt - - - 002. eternal

genre - - - angst, tragedy

rating - - - PG

synopsis - - - _What a joke, to think that she had all the time in the world to change things. Nothing was eternal, least of all a group of Nobodies who weren't even meant to exist._

disclaimers - - - I do not in any way, shape or form own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction; if I did, the whole of Organisation XIII would have survived, we would know all about their Others, and Larxel would be canon. The end.

**- - x x x x x - -**

She wished things could have been different.

As she roamed the Realm of Darkness, relegated to wandering through the emptiness for all eternity until she became whole again, she had been doing more thinking than she had bothered to for the past ten or so years. Could it really have been that long? In her memories, it had seemed like only yesterday that she had woken up to the news that the Radiant Garden was destroyed, that everything in it she had ever known was gone. All the people she knew, loved and hated had vanished from the face of the world; the loss that had struck her the hardest of all, though, was that of a certain wild-haired boy.

Lea.

What had he been thinking? Aerlen had screamed her grief and fury at the cold, distant moon until she felt as though her throat had been torn out; it was just like him to _not_ mind his own business and stick his nose where it clearly didn't belong. She had had plans for that summer, after she returned from that trip with her school friends to the beach; she had intended to finally confront Lea on his feelings, and had been fully prepared to wrestle, pummel and _slap_ an answer out of him.

And now, he was dead and gone, or so it seemed; there was nothing left to suggest that he had ever been part of her life, save for that frayed scarf he had always worn, which he had given to her the day before she left.

"_Hey Kitten, I know you're not going to be gone long, but while you're there, having fun at the beach, I want ya to remember me, okay? Remember poor me slaving away at that icky old summer job whilst you have the time of your life frolicking through the waves. Heh. Be sure to tell me about everything, mind you. Perhaps one day we can go there together."_

So much for his promises. Aerlen had returned to the destroyed Radiant Garden as soon as it was safe to do so, in a desperate search to find _that idiot boy_. She had stood in front of the little store at which he worked part-time, clutching his scarf like a lifeline as she stared at the claw-marks slashed across the walls, ignoring the soft _crack_ of shattered glass from the windows crunching underfoot as she dared to venture up to the counter. For several minutes, the girl had only glared at the counter and the dusty till, hoping against hope that a messy head of bright red hair would pop up from behind the counter to laugh at her and banish her fears.

If only she had insisted on dragging him along – and Isa too, if she could somehow have convinced him to stop working – and perhaps helped them save as much munny as they needed to go for a well-earned vacation. As she ran her fingers along the ruined counter, she could just imagine Lea being intrigued by the wave of darkness that swept across the Radiant Garden, a wave of voracious Heartless who would consume the hearts of all who stood in their way. She could almost _see_ him pressing his nose against the shop windows for a better look, and then realising, far too late, that this was the end of the line for him. She wondered if Isa, too, had seen his end coming, and had accepted it; she could only just picture Lea struggling against the mass of Shadows that swarmed him, whilst his friend allowed himself to be consumed by it, knowing there was no point in resisting a fate which had been set out for him.

Why were males always so fatalistic? And how could somebody as rational-minded as Isa not seen the warning signs? And, the question that nagged her most of all, was this: had Lea had a premonition of what was to come, and had given her his scarf to remember him by?

Aerlen gritted her teeth, thumping her fist angrily against the splintering wood. "Stupid boy," she whispered bitterly to the empty shop. "You're such an _idiot_. Who told you to make promises you can't even keep? Weren't you ever taught _not_ to do that?"

When she turned her back on the ravaged shop, Aerlen had resigned herself to the fact that she would never see Lea again.

**- - x x x x x - -**

For over four years, she had struggled to continue with her life, attempting to ignore that hollow in her heart. To think that she had been so close to confessing her feelings, only to have that opportunity snatched away from her. However, never in her wildest dreams had she allowed herself to imagine that one day, she would meet Lea again.

That day came after she was attacked by a Heartless.

Lost, terrified and alone, she had wandered through a storm-ridden dark city of sorts, until a black-clad, hooded figure had found her. Something about that stranger was hauntingly familiar, until she finally recognised the heavily-accented drawl of one of Ansem the Wise's apprentices.

"Braig!" she spluttered, staggering upright to grip the hooded man by his shoulders, shaking him with more strength than she had thought her scrawny, rain-sodden body held. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you _died_!"

When he removed the hood, she was shocked; she had seen him several times before, and the gunner had always looked sleek and well-groomed, even after that incident with the Keyblade master which had cost him his eye. He had aged visibly over the past few years, with his dark hair longer than she remembered, and greying slightly, and more scars across his visage. The battle-worn man only chuckled at her in the same way he used to, before shaking his head.

"Sorry to disappoint, _honey_, but the guy known as Braig _is_ dead." He appraised her with a single frightful golden eye, a smirk lingering on his lips. "You look mighty familiar, kiddo." His voice dropped to a sly whisper as he spoke, half to himself. "Looks like another one to welcome into the fold."

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing. Come with me, kiddo. I've got some people who'd like to meet you."

It was only much later that she managed to extricate the full story from this scarred man; it seemed, after she had been attacked by the Commander Heartless, she herself had been turned into one. A Heartless, that is. However, she had apparently possessed a strong enough will to exist, which had given rise to…what she was now.

As Braig…no, as _Xigbar_ led her to the meeting room of this enigmatic _Organisation_, she tested the word curiously, rolling it several times over her tongue. "Nobody. I'm a Nobody? That's not a very nice thing to say…"

Xigbar only laughed, reaching back to ruffle the top of your head. "That's what all the new kids say. Gets boring after a while, let me tell you that."

As he accompanied her to the middle of that great round room, with a steadying hand on her shoulder, the blonde forced herself to look up, meeting the eyes of the other…_Nobodies_ assembled on their absurdly high seats. Several of them were hooded, though a few of them had their features clearly exposed; as her eyes travelled through the ranks, she caught sight of a familiar mane of red hair, and she stifled a gasp. Recognition struck her like a bolt from the blue, and she stood, rooted in place as she drank in the features she would have recognised _anywhere_; today was proving to be like travelling in a time capsule, and so far, she had met two people from her past she had thought were long-dead. The nameless new Nobody gaped, thunderstruck, at the tall, lean man, unable to believe her eyes.

Sitting on one of the thrones to her left, and with one elbow resting on his other arm, an older version of Lea thoughtfully rubbed his chin as he stared down at her, those same, brilliant green eyes narrowing slightly.

It felt as though she had come full circle.

**- - x x x x x - -**

She had been in the Organisation for a few years now, and had long since accepted the notion that there was no hope of Axel and her rekindling what they had had as teenagers in the Radiant Garden. They were adults now, world-weary and wiser to boot, and, as she recalled from her first conversation with him right after she arrived, it seemed that not only had their physical appearances changed, but so had their views.

Not that his personality had been altered much. He was every bit as indolent as she remembered, and despite that veneer of nonchalance he maintained, he was still every bit as impulsive and reckless as before.

Larxene often wondered what he thought of her.

In an effort to reach out to him, she had let him in on that plan that Marluxia had formulated; he had taken to it gamely enough, and in some small, secret part of her being, she had foolishly allowed herself to hope.

To hope that perhaps he remembered the past, her questions, and would one day answer her.

The first time she confronted him was after a mission, a year or so after she had arrived in the Organisation. They were sweltering in Agrabah, on the trail of a particular annoyingly persistent giant Heartless which had put several of the lesser Nobodies out of commission: Xaldin had reported that his Dragoons had been laid low by the accursed thing, and the Dusks dispatched had returned and survived long enough only to give their accounts, before fading away. After chasing the Heartless through the desert for what had seemed like _hours_, and during the long detour they had to make to avoid some civilians, Larxene had finally asked Axel about what he remembered about his human life, five years ago, and if he recalled what it was like to have feelings.

His answer verified for her that indeed he remembered, but it seemed as though he was confused about them. She didn't press him again, though over the next few years, she found he was increasingly fond of recounting the old times, even going so far as to remind her of all the antics they had engaged in, and all the plans they had made…plans which had been shelved after his disappearance.

It was at times like these when she wondered how long they would be stuck like this, recalling their shared past but being able to do nothing about it. Contrary to what Xemnas preached, Kingdom Hearts seemed no closer to completion, and whilst the objective of the Organisation was to collect hearts so that they could become whole, Larxene found herself disagreeing with their aims.

After a few years in the Organisation, she found she was better off this way, never regaining her heart. After all, having a heart came bundled with having fears, doubts and insecurities – about herself, about the future, and, at that time, most of all, about a boy who had always seemed to treat her as a friend, and nothing more.

It was something she never revealed to Axel, though, even during the long conversations they tended to have after missions, or when they had a spot of free time to spare. No, she convinced herself it was far better to forget the past and forge onwards, never looking back. It was the mantra she repeated, over and over, when Axel teased her about her temper, hair and nicknames, and what kept her clinging to sanity after the remorseless tedium began to set in, after day after day of missions.

**- - x x x x x - -**

Being shipped off to Castle Oblivion alerted her to the fact that something was amiss. Axel had never been predictable, but something about his behaviour was oddly…_off_, and uncharacteristic of him. He seemed almost distracted and uncertain at times, though the moment she questioned him, masking her concern – if it was even possible for her to feel that, by this point – with a veiled, yet pointed taunt, he was quick to dispel her suspicions.

"Of course I'm not having second thoughts, Sparky. _You_ know me better than that."

"Just as long as you don't get in the way," she had responded snidely, before leaving him to stew by himself.

When she faced the Keyblade master, she had been certain it was the end of the line for her. Despite his youth, there was something about him which struck her as hauntingly familiar, until she realised it was the old Lea she saw in him: reckless, yes, but passionate and tenacious, determined and also easily angered. _What a fitting end for me_, she had mused as she faded into the darkness, lucid at the very end, _to be done in by a kid who reminds me so much of my past._

**- - x x x x x - -**

And now, roaming through the Realm of Darkness, and occasionally catching the rare glimpse of the Dark Meridian, Larxene chuckled scornfully to herself, tightening the strings of her drawn hood. All those times in the Organisation, talking to Axel, pretending she actually wanted her heart back…

It was all for nothing. She had faded back into the Darkness, doomed to wandering it for all eternity until she finally found her heart again. Effectively, that meant she would be here until the end of time, because the pure and simple truth was that she did not want her heart back. Recalling her youth, her childhood, her anguish at the loss of her friends and _that idiot boy_ she had loved, it had hurt too much. For four years after the destruction of her home, she had marched on without a backwards glance. And where had it landed her? As a Nobody, in some Organisation whose goals she did not even agree with, facing what she had at first assumed were the ghosts of her past.

Some things, like her heart, were better off not being resurrected. In hindsight, it was such a _joke_, to think that she had all the time in the world to change things. After all, as a Nobody, she didn't have much to fear, except for…being vanquished by some idiot kid wielding a giant key. The humiliation rankled, though not nearly as much as the despair.

Who had she been fooling? She might have been comforted by the notion that she had all the time she could possibly ask for to come to terms with herself, and with Axel, but she had been proven wrong. After all, nothing was eternal, least of all a group of Nobodies who were not even meant to exist in the first place. Least of all herself.

Left with only her deepest, darkest thoughts as company, the hooded woman snorted under her breath. It was all wasted time, spent chasing an 'idle fantasy', as Saïx would have called it. Nothing was going to change that, and if any of them succeeded in getting their hearts back and being pulled back from the Darkness, so be it. _She_, for one, wasn't going to join them.

_I'll be the biggest Nobody of them all. I will stay here until the end of time, rejecting my heart, because no matter what, I don't want it back. Not now, not ever. _

Of course things were better off this way. Better not remembering what it was like to be a teenager again, and worrying about what one of her closest friends thought of her. Larxene felt almost old and tired now, a thought which made her laugh, taking herself by surprise.

_I've been an empty shell for so many years, it's no longer worth it to try and pretend any more. What's the point? Everything was just such a stupid little dream. Me, him, and everybody else._

A wry thought struck her. _I sound almost like Xemnas now. I wonder what Lea—no, what _Axel_ would make of that._

She wondered what had happened of the others; some time after she had faded away and landed in the Darkness, she had sensed the presences of the other Organisation members, suggesting that they, too, had met their ends at the hands of the Keyblade master. So it went.

But what of Axel? She could vaguely feel the movements of the Nobodies she once knew, through a thick fugue of darkness and shadows, but she couldn't pinpoint that one she had thought she knew so well.

Until now.

A sudden change in the fabric of the space around her alerted her to this new presence, close by; she stared across the emptiness at the other hooded figure, tall and slender, that had materialised in front of her. Her teal eyes narrowed within the depths of her hood as she studied the shape of the cloak, staring at the tight sleeves, the loose hood, that lanky frame…and that _voice_ that issued forth, smooth and teasing, every bit as suggestive and coercive as she remembered.

"Well hello there, Kitten. Don't I even get a hello this time around?"

Her gasp was lost when the figure swept its hood back, revealing a shock of bright crimson hair, green eyes – with that same, mischievous glint in them – and that arrogant smirk that was so uniquely his.

"Axel?"

"No, Sparky, it's the sugar-plum fairy." He rolled his eyes, sighing with mock impatience and exasperation. "_Yes_, Larx, it's none other than little old me."

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Oh. Well, I kinda, uh…I sorta…blew myself up. Look, it's a long story, okay? And I'm dead beat after that little show. The low-down is, I faded back into the Darkness, and so here I am. And I take _all_ this effort to find you, and this is how you greet me? Man, I knew you were harsh, but this is just a new level of harsh. Even for you. And what's with that _tone_? Always so hurtful. Tsk."

"Once an idiot, always an idiot." She pushed her own hood back and shook her head, running a gloved hand through her bright blonde hair as she spoke. "When'll you ever learn…Lea?"

"Heh. What can I say, Aerlen? I was made this way. Just like how we were made to find each other, no matter what. Just like how we found each other as kids, just as we found each other as Nobodies, and now, in some godforsaken realm we were banished to. Quite a record we have, eh?"

She froze, staring at the other Nobody.

He continued as though he had not seen her sudden change in expression. "Looks like we have all the time in the world to fix things now, don't we?"

For the first time since that fateful day, nearly a decade ago, she smiled genuinely. "So it seems."

**- - x x x x x - -**

**epilogue. **_One fine day, my one-shots are going to be about 5,000 words long. I just know it. But I swear, what with playing _Days_ over and over, listening to the absolutely gorgeous soundtrack and having lots of Larxel muse in general, it's all I can write. For now. And sadly, I don't seem to be conforming as faithfully to Larxene form as I should be :/ She seems almost too mellow and contemplative at times. I intend for the next, more dynamic 'shots' to convey her usual…feistiness. Hopefully. Maybe._

_As for my timeline, yes, I know it's horribly messed up. And that there's the argument that Nobodies don't age. However, it had me thinking. Don't the six apprentices of Ansem the Wise get turned into Nobodies one year after the events of BbS? Well, err. At least, that's what I read somewhere in the KH Wikia. Anyways, if that's the case, then Ienzo would have been at the most ten when he became a Nobody, whilst Zexion seems to be in his late teens or early twenties, and Xigbar seems to have grown older compared to Braig. So for the sake of convenience, we'll assume that yes, Nobodies can age. And we're also assuming that Axel and Saïx were turned into Nobodies some time after the original six and the rest of the Org. after them followed at varying times, with Larxene joining up four years after Axel and Saïx. Make sense? Yes? Yes._

_And about how Nobodies 'fade into the darkness'. After obsessively searching through the Wikia with a fine-toothed comb, I picked up on this snippet which suggested that in the KH novel series, Naminè__ insinuated that Axel didn't really die, but 'rather faded into darkness where he would wander until he found his heart'. So there we go. I'm just assuming that's what happened to the rest of the Nobodies. Though strictly speaking, how can something that didn't truly exist die? Hmm._

_Once again, I have displayed an incredible ability to meander off-topic and forget about my prompt, as well as write obnoxiously long authors' notes. Sorry! And thank you so much, __**Arcticwaters**__, for your review! It's quite an honour, haha. I do hope I continue to deliver as well as the first 'shot', and wish you, and all others, happy reading. _


	3. subtle

**prologue.**

prompt - - - 003. subtle

genre - - - (failed) humour, general, romance, and a little splash of…introspective angst.

rating - - - PG – T

synopsis - - - _If there was one thing about him which had not changed, it was the fact that he was and always had been a horrible liar; it wasn't so much that he was unconvincing, but it was his body language that was a dead giveaway._

disclaimers - - - I do not in any way, shape or form own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction.

**- - x x x x x - -**

If there was one thing that had not changed about Axel, it was that he was a terrible liar.

Even back in the Radiant Garden, it was easy to differentiate between when he was not fibbing and when he was telling the truth; even white lies were not quite exempt from this rule, and one only had to look into his eyes and perhaps strike a suitably intimidating pose in order to forcibly extricate the full truth from him. There had been several instances during the their school days when he had lied about doing homework, only to have Schoolmaster Jall pounce triumphantly on him like a hungry wolverine; it wasn't simply the fact that he was too brutally honest for his own good –like Isa, who sometimes also seemed to lack tact altogether – but the fact that Lea had had body language far too dynamic to be able to suit the wilful act of blithely weaving falsehoods.

Of course, back when she had still been Aerlen, she had been quick to catch on to when Lea was not being entirely honest, and had mercilessly teased, taunted and poked fun at him, to the point that he had learnt to be highly wary of answering her questions, for fear that he would get a pen lobbed at his head, or worse. Sometimes, her questions ranged from the innocent: "Do you think these shoes make my feet look big?" to the more meaningful: "Do you think the future really is as bleak as Isa likes to remind us? Would we remember one another, no matter what?"

More often than not, he would either stutter hopelessly at the former, or waste several precious minutes on how best to answer her question without offending her – the results were always highly amusing to watch, and even after all these years, Larxene had never told Axel that she never really cared what his responses were, as long as he answered her questions – and, in the case of the latter, refuse to answer, and only glance evasively around elsewhere, stubbornly refusing to meet her eyes.

Some things, it seemed, never changed.

**- - x x x x x - -**

It was only after a mission one day that she stumbled upon this little snippet of information; their exchange had started off innocuously enough, with her absently asking Axel if he still remembered summers back at the Garden, and if there was anything he would change about the past, if he got the chance. As some unspoken agreement of theirs, he had allowed her to traipse all over his room, stalking all around it as though she owned his quarters before flopping down on his bed, watching him as he wrote his mission report. After several seconds of silence, punctuated only by the sounds of his pen skittering across his sheet of paper before him – his writing was every bit as obnoxiously horrible a chicken-scratch as Lea's had been – and his idle cursing every time he misspelled a particularly long word, she had brought the subject up, only to hear silence descend, stifling and absolute, over them.

Lounging on his bedspread, Larxene surveyed number VIII upside-down, taking in the stiffness of the slope of his shoulders, as well as the fact that he seemed to have stopped breathing altogether. "Hey, Flamesilocks, did you hear me?"

"Yes, I did." After several moments, his pen resumed its scratching, leaving her to frown at the back of his head, fleetingly wondering what one of her knives would look like, sticking out of his skull.

"Well? I know something's bugging you, because subtlety has never been your forte." It seemed, all these years later, Axel had not changed all that much from the lazy, endearingly arrogant boy he had been, and even his evasive manner of speech stayed with him to this day. Silence settled over the enclosed space of his room, and, finally, he raised a hand, running it haphazardly through his unruly hair with a sigh; she recognised this as his sign of reluctant defeat, and continued to stare at him, as though trying to extricate an answer from the other Nobody.

"Yeah, I remember what it was like to be a kid," he interjected wearily, before she could even speak. "But it's not exactly stuff I wanna recall. I mean, every time I think of that last day we had together – as humans, that is – and what with you going to the beach and all…I thought things would go back to normal after you came back, but they never did."

He paused, inhaling deeply; Larxene rolled over onto her stomach, propping herself up with her elbows, and fiddling idly with her hood's pull-strings, a single raised eyebrow prompting him to continue.

"The day before you were set to come back, we got attacked. I think things pretty much started to change right after you left for the beach, y'know? But, hey, all that's in the past. No need to talk about depressing stuff like that. It's all over, man, and there's no way we can go back, no matter how hard we try."

She nodded, more than willing to accept his wisdom; however, the dark shadow of their conversation continued to hang over their heads, as heavy as any death sentence. The silence, Larxene decided, was stifling, and it was partially her fault for bringing this whole topic up. A change of topic came to mind, and she nearly laughed aloud at the question she was about to ask. What did it matter now? They were both Nobodies, and having emotions was water under the bridge, so to speak. Still, he had never answered that question, one of the numerous she had asked, and now seemed as good a time as any to bring the matter up again.

"Say, Axel…remember when I first joined the Organisation, and asked you how I look in my coat? You didn't answer me properly then. What I'd like to know is this: what do you think of me now?" As she spoke, she rolled luxuriantly over onto her back, allowing the folds of the coat to drape across each curve of her body; even without looking, she knew his eyes were on her, drawn instinctively to her movements, like a moth to a flame. "Well?"

For a moment, it seemed as though he would not respond; then, a smirk curved across his lips, and he abandoned his pen, ink spilling from the nib. "Oh, you're charming as always, phrasing your questions so bluntly…talk about the pot calling the kettle black; subtlety was never your forte, kitten." A chuckle escaped his lips, before his expression straightened into one of utmost seriousness. "I think," he breathed, green eyes glinting with sardonic mischief, "that you look absolutely _dreadful_."

Larxene grinned coyly up at the redheaded man, tugging at the dangling silver strings of his hood and wrenching him closer downwards, baring her teeth with the hint of a sneer. "You, my _dear_," she purred slyly, eyes locked onto his, breath tickling his ear, "are a _terrible _liar."

**- - x x x x x - -**

**epilogue. **_Okay, I'm officially horrible at this whole prompts business, as well as figuring out what the heck genre I'm meant to file this under. What I write sometimes barely even has any connection with the prompt. No connection! Nada! Save for a few loose threads here and there. Oh well. At least this 100 theme challenge gives me an excuse to write more Larxel. _

_In order to get some of the references here, you'll probably have to follow my other fic-in-progress, 'Fractures and Faultlines': I've more or less been mixing and matching elements from this oneshot collection and 'Fractures', because…I don't know. It makes the backstory work._


	4. jealousy

**prologue.**

prompt - - - 004. jealousy

genre - - - drama, suspense

rating - - - T

synopsis - - - _Seeing her with _him_ brought back memories of their shared past, resurrecting his old, long-forgotten fear. What if she had chosen _him _instead? Would their friendship have been the same?_

disclaimers - - - I do not in any way, shape or form own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction.

**- - x x x x x - -**

He sees her first, the moment he sets foot into the Grey Area that evening; under normal circumstances, he would have trotted straight over to greet her, with a hand lingering fleetingly on her narrow shoulder, or a mocking jibe veiled with whatever affection was possibly available to a Nobody. However, he is not blind: Axel catches sight of the tall, expressionless man, with his scarred visage – a remnant of the attack that claimed his heart – and long indigo hair, silvered by the light of the moon; unwilling to be seen by the duo, the redheaded man slinks unobtrusively out of sight, lurking suspiciously in the darkness of the corridor leading to the Organisation's lounge.

Their words barely reach him; the snippets of murmured conversation he can catch are indistinct undertones he has to strain his ears to catch. Larxene gesticulates eloquently, black-gloved fingers trailing through the air like the spread wings of a jackdaw, coming to a rest on Saïx's shoulder. The Organisation's second-in-command's features register no visible reaction: he makes no attempt to move, to shift away from their physical proximity, amber eyes narrowing as he inclines his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Axel is unprepared for what he sees unfolding before him: with a laugh, high and unexpectedly cruel, Larxene pushes the berserker against the plate-glass windows, pinning him in place with slender arms braced against his chest; the man remains in place, barely winded, still surveying his would-be assailant with something approximating cold, sardonic amusement. A twinge of unexpected fear ripples through Axel's spine, an icicle of trepidation which radiates cold numbness towards his nerves: _what is she thinking?_

Evidently, Larxene is not thinking about the repercussions of manhandling a superior; adding insult to injury, the superior in question is a man renowned for his bloodthirsty savagery when bathed under the light of the moon – as he is now – during which he forgot all reason and tore through all, not bothering to discriminate between friend and foe. The Lunar Diviner, Axel knew, was more than capable of snapping the Nymph's neck without a thought if so inclined, having cast away the vestiges of their past. Instead, though, defying all expectations, number VII's gaze was unflinching as he met Larxene's eyes, surveying the woman from between lowered lids.

His query carries across the distance to Axel's ears, his voice quiet and reasonable, laced with boredom. "To what do I owe this late pleasure?"

As he shuffles closer, endeavouring to remain hidden within shadows, Axel catches the blonde's response, mirthless and filled with mockery. "Do you remember?" Her voice lowers to a suggestive whisper, the syllables of the berserker's past name catching in her throat as she hissed it, sweetly mellifluous tones bubbling with malice. "Isa?"

Saïx mirrors her expression: his face is a mask, closed and empty, a thin smile curving across his lips. "Remind me."

Before any of them can even blink, Larxene pushes against him, forcing the breath out of his lungs; Axel does not need to see her face to be able to imagine the expression she wears, twisted into one of mingled fury and hatred. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches the blonde press herself against Saïx, locking her lips with his.

For several moments, all he hears is the feverish pounding of his blood in his ears; for several seconds, the two he – as Lea – used to cherish as his closest friends, remained together, locked in a passionless embrace. Finally, Larxene pulls free, wiping her mouth, taking with it a smirk, bitter and brittle. "So, you really forgot." The words she throws forth are not so much a question as a statement, heavy with implication. Saïx does not deign to respond, and, with a disgusted snarl, the Nymph pushes herself away from him, turning on her heel and storming towards the corridor, straight into Axel's path.

At her approach, he summons a Portal, allowing the darkness to consume him; the last thing he glimpses, before the roiling shadows whisks him away, is Larxene's face, eyes glazed with something he cannot quite identify.

**- - x x x x x - -**

He should have known he was not able to satisfy her; after all, were they not all beings without hearts? Perhaps she missed that vital _spark_ from when she was still Aerlen, and searched for that same searing intensity, an intensity he could not provide. Why, then, would she look for it in Saïx, who had been cast adrift even further than he had?

If anything, seeing Larxene with _him_ had brought back unwarranted memories from the past, dredging up fears from when he was still a teenager, hapless and uncertain: Isa had taken things gamely enough, cracking jokes at his own expense. Now, Axel wondered if there were signs he'd missed along the way, if he had ever heard his friend questioning his place in the trio, in the unofficial couple Lea and Aerlen had become, despite their vehement denials.

What would he have done, Axel wondered, if Aerlen had chosen Isa instead?

The sound of footsteps, brisk and angry, jolts him from his reveries; glancing up, he catches her at the upper balcony of the Hall of Empty Melodies, storming away from the Grey Area, and steps forward to intercept her path. He remains stubbornly in place until she stares up at him, gaze bland and disinterested, with teal eyes as cold and dark as the deep blue sea. "I _saw_ you."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows it's a mistake. Once more, he is Lea, the gawky, naïve boy, and not Axel, the Nobody. Why should he be pretending to have emotions, to feel resentful of the attention Larxene had just bestowed upon the person who had once been his closest friend?

Her laugh is harsh and almost derisive, and, with an arrogant toss of her head, she glares at him, a defiant fire blazing in the depths of her eyes, chin raised with sneering insolence. "So? What do you care? We were never exclusive."

"That's not the point." He forces himself to speak despite the dull throb of anger at the back of his mind, and Larxene only gazes steadily at him, a crafty, cunning smile flickering across her features.

"Do you want to know what he tasted like?"

Before he can speak, before he can react, Axel feels himself forced against the wall, the edges scraping against his back through his leather coat; a growl rumbles, deep within his chest, and he feels her pressing against him, edging him into an alcove. Her breath is hot and hungry against his cheek, and he tastes blood on her lips, feels chafed skin and knows, without having to think about it, that Saïx has already left his mark on her. The taste on the tip of his tongue is not quite the same; he remembers an Aerlen who tasted like summer, sweet and fresh, like elderberry wine. What he experiences now is not the same as then, during that stolen, accidental kiss they shared under a starlit sky.

Instead, he discovers a residual trace of something else, a stinging tang that leaves a lingering aftertaste in his mouth.

Huddled in that alcove in a tangled knot of limbs and leather, they are locked in a fierce embrace which seems to be more fight than anything else; he hisses under his breath when her fingers crawl to the zipper of his coat, dragging it down by degrees, and their kisses are all teeth, the two parties barely even wincing as sparks of static skip between their heated skin. Larxene pulls away momentarily, eyes aglow with a feral intensity; he feels her supple, lissom curves beneath his fingertips, whispers an oath as she presses her calf against his, shoving him further back; before they can go any further, voices wrench them from their trance, and Axel rears back slightly, pressing a finger to his lips.

Demyx's voice edges closer to the alcove; he complains about target practice with Xigbar, and the voice of the youngest Nobody in the castle, number XIII, responds.

Larxene's gaze shifts; she reaches up to trace a gloved finger along her companion's jawline, beckoning him downwards. "Why don't we bring this elsewhere?"

He gives her a hard, mocking smile – he has not quite forgiven her for what he witnessed earlier – and nods. "With pleasure."

**- - x x x x x - -**

**epilogue. **_Ho ho ho! Things start to get steamy now. -shot for bad pun- Yes, two updates in about as many days, I'm really on a roll. This prompt is awesome, and once more, is related to _Fractures_. I think by this point, _Letters_ and _Fractures _will be set in the same universe, and what _Fractures _does not cover, will certainly be explored in _Letters_, or in some other as-of-yet-untitled-but-planned oneshot collections I will be working on. _

_Yes, I've said this lots of times: I love Saïx. And, after reading some fics, I've decided I quite like Saïxene as a pairing, (even if it has like, nada evidence and is pretty much a crack pairing) though not nearly as much as Larxel. I mean, once you look at the _Fractures_-verse, it all makes sense. -shrug- So I'm keeping it that way. _

_Mmhmm, even in such situations, dear Larxene is still very feline in her behaviour, and Axel is surprisingly well-equipped with dealing with it. Heh heh. Perhaps this will be continued further along the series, we'll see how things go. _


	5. mellow

**prologue.**

prompt - - - 005. mellow

genre - - - general, romance, humour

rating - - - T

synopsis - - - _The moment anyone encountered Larxene in a remotely placid state of mind was more than enough reason to be suspicious, or to be afraid for one's future._

disclaimers - - - I do not in any way, shape or form own Kingdom Hearts or the characters portrayed in this work of fiction.

**- - x x x x x - -**

He had learned the hard way that any time Larxene went out on missions in particularly uncharitable world equated with her returning in high dudgeon, after nearly electrocuting the living daylights out of whoever had to enjoy the misfortune of being teamed up with her for the day. Axel had witnessed it when Demyx returned from a mission to Halloween Town with her; the Nocturne had regaled them all with tales of how his companion had single-handedly decimated an entire flock of rampaging Windstorms, leaving him to sit on the steps of the city square and twiddle his thumbs. Luxord himself had some tales to tell, of when Larxene had accompanied him to Port Royal and had, once she had found her sea-legs, proceeded to nearly electrocute both of them after an inebriated, none-too-polite pirate captain had starting swaggering around, slurring lewd jokes at her general direction.

As the bemused gambler later recounted, "hell hath no fury like a woman slighted", and it was only due to his timely intervention that they escaped from having their nerves short-circuited by Larxene's surge of fury. It now went without saying that the Savage Nymph no longer embarked on any missions which were based in waterlogged seascapes, or were perpetually beset by torrential rain, and most certainly not with Demyx, who tended to make such situations worse.

It was after yet another tedious week of missions that Axel found himself cooped up within the depths of his chambers, once again penning boring report after report: the backlog of work had accumulated over the days, after he had staggered back to the castle, too tired to even lift up a writing implement of any sort, and it was only during such ungodly hours that he regretted his procrastination. The moment her presence registered himself at the back of his mind – he could vaguely feel the cold flare of energy, emitting from a portal being used – he carefully set his pen down, wary of spilling ink all over the papers fanned out before him; before he could blink, Larxene appeared in the middle of his room, throwing herself onto his bed without so much as a word to announce her presence.

"Mission go well?" he queried idly, shuffling through reams of paper, each filled with his untidy penmanship; his companion snorted, pulling off her gloves and flinging them at the general direction of his desk.

"Mission go well, my _ass_," she sneered, rubbing at her temples. "Xigbar got us hopelessly lost."

"Ah. That explains everything."

Larxene didn't deign to reply, instead cursing under her breath and swiping irritably at his unmade sheets. "You live like a pig."

At her words, he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding; after yet another incident in the past when she had returned from a mission all hot and bothered, their encounter had cumulated in the most unusual of circumstances, which had gradually become established as some perverse rhythm of theirs. The moment he had sensed her returning, and had seen the expression on her face, Axel had been certain it would be another one of _those_ nights; however, her pointed lack of enthusiasm and uncustomary placidity dictated otherwise. "Something wrong?"

He only heard a soft _creak_, followed by faint _thumps_ as she sat up to remove her boots, dropping them carelessly on the floor; Axel watched as his companion curled up on his bed with a yawn, returning his scrutiny with half-lidded eyes. "No. Why?"

"I don't know," Axel replied, testing the words as they slipped out of his mouth. "I would have figured that given the fact that you spent some proportion of your mission running around in circles, you'd have been in a pretty bad mood."

"Maybe. I'm too tired to be _mad_." She enunciated the word with childish emphasis, before rolling over to present him with a fine view of her back. "_So_ sorry, Bonfire Boy, but we won't be lighting any fires tonight."

At that, Axel had to choke back a laugh. "What makes you think I was expecting any of that? Just because it happens after almost _every _mission-gone-not-so-peachy doesn't mean it's stopped being weird. I've still got scars from the last time, you know. Scars where the sun doesn't _shine_."

Larxene pointedly ignored him, and for a moment, he thought she had fallen asleep; then, she half-turned, to affix him with a cynical stare, lips curving into a mocking smile. "Don't deny it. You _enjoy_ it."

"Wow, kitten, something's wrong with you tonight. Where are your claws? The insults? The sarcasm? I'd have thought you usually employed more scathing wit than that."

"Out picnicking, for tonight at least. Now go away."

Axel tutted under his breath, in the hopes of eliciting a stronger reaction out of her. "You're telling me to get out of my own room? Well, I never."

When she stubbornly refused to respond, he sighed at last, pushing himself out of the chair and flopping down heavily beside the blonde. "Aww, don't be like that. Now give me a hug, and I'll make it _all_ better."

She growled under her breath at the extra weight pressing down on the bed. "Bastard. Nice try, but I don't need your so-called sympathy. So _no_." The word itself was a flat dismissal, and he wondered what in the name of darkness he was doing, trying to provoke a suspiciously peaceable Larxene. On one hand, he could easy turf her out of his room, though the consequences of that would be several knives to the face; on the other hand, he did not relish the thought of having to tread on eggshells around her for the remainder of the night, because having his sleeping quarters destroyed was extremely detrimental to his own mental wellbeing. Against his better judgment, Axel reached out, to pull the blonde closer to him, only to have her stiffen in his arms.

Despite her initial knee-jerk reaction – to promptly reach back and swipe at the general direction of his head – he persisted, and deciding it was easier to stop resisting, Larxene allowed herself to be pulled against his body. "Just so you know, I'm never allowing you to do this again. Oh, and I hate you more than words can possibly hope to accurately convey."

He ignored her, resting his chin on the top of her head. "_Right_. Keep telling yourself that, Sparkplug. I hate you too," he added idly, almost as an afterthought. "Don't forget that."

Larxene yanked his pillow towards herself, pummelling it into a more comfortable shape. "Good. As long as we have that all clear."

"Crystal."

**- - x x x x x - -**

**epilogue. **_Oh-oh my _god_. This is probably the closest thing to fluff I will ever write for the pair of them. The characterisation, dear lord, it seems to have flown out of the window! After lurking around on KHfanficrants, I'm no longer sure if I have them as down pat as I hope. Sorry for lack of updates, I've been _far _too sidetracked with a ton of other plunnies, figuring out the vagaries of LiveJournal, and with trying to re-write the first chapter of _Fractures_. I sincerely hope I did not mangle canon too badly here, and that the chapter lived up to expectations. Once again, thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	6. blood

**prologue.**

prompt - - - [238] blood

full title - - - blood and chocolate

genre - - - dark, introspective, character study

rating - - - M for suggestive themes

synopsis - - - _Pleasure and pain are two intrinsically entwined concepts._

disclaimers - - - I do not in any way, shape or form own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction (much to my eternal dismay and perpetual chagrin).

**- - x x x x x - -**

As mundane as it seems, she uses her knives for more than cutting pretty little faces up.

It is one thing to run a sharpened dagger-tip down warm, living skin, to score furrows in yielding flesh which shrinks back from the cold bite of electrified metal. It is one thing to press glinting blades to trembling throats, to carve them a painted mockery of a smile and tear them open from ear to ear, to watch yet another hapless fool's lifeblood flow freely from ragged slashes. It is one thing to watch broken bodies fall like unmanned marionettes with their strings cut, swimming face-down, glassy-eyed and slack-jawed, piteously bloated in a pool of telltale crimson.

It is one thing to watch droplets of blood well up in the wake of her knife-path, to fingerpaint intricate designs upon her red-stained canvas, to press at the edge of weeping wounds and rub salt in over the crisscrossed trails. It is one thing to press her lips to bloodstained steel, to test the harsh metallic flavour on the tip of her tongue, to act as though she enjoys the acrid tang souring her mouth.

It is one thing to map out a route of fine lacerations upon bare skin, to link them together with thick roads of winding, pulsing scarlet, to allow coy fingers to travel slyly down never-trod roads until her vision blurs to a hazy miasma of brilliant red, bleeding into the edges of her vision.

It is one thing to hear that breathless hiss, that quietly explosive oath, to pierce through skin and clothes with each exultant sweep of her knife, to claw jagged gouges onto sinewy arms in the heat of passion. It is one thing to hear her pulse pounding in her ears, thundering through her brain when she tightens her grip, rakes fingernails down a straining back, bites down hard on a shoulder until she can taste the ferrous tang of blood at the back of her throat.

It is one thing to wonder what it will be like to drive a single knife, humming with the power of harnessed lightning and stolen thunder, between his shoulderblades and whisper into his mouth her knowledge of his treachery. To know his blood is on her hands, and nobody else's.

It is another thing to pin notes and shopping lists to the Castle noticeboards with a single knife, left innocuously in place like just any other thumb-tack. It is another thing to flick them through the air like harmless bowling-pins when she is bored, to toss them through the air and catch them with her eyes closed, like any other circus performer. It is another thing to send them at a dartboard, to speed up their flight with a surge of electromagnetic energy that embeds each stiletto up to its hilt in splintered wood, dagger-points protruding on the other side of a door like some absurd tapestry of varnished timber and polished metal.

It is another thing to idly shave curls of couverture from a freshly-opened bar, to almost-surgically cut away crinkling foil wrappings, to lick chocolate melted by the warmth of her hands off a silvered blade. It is another thing to hack and slash at a faceless phalanx of battered mannequins in the training arena, to offer to anyone who passes by the guileless, amoral smile of a small child. It is another thing to see them remember who she is, and what she is capable of.

Hurt to the hurtful, hurt to the hurting. There's no other way she'd have it, she tells herself, over and over.

**- - x x x x x - -**

**epilogue. **_Okay, this is not technically part of my challenge table, but I wrote it for kh_drabble's (on LiveJournal, pshawww) weekly prompt, 'blood'. It's so Larxene, face it 8U_

LOLOLOL public service announcement. _And another thing: I am insanely sorry for such a late update fff. It's just that…well, it's due to variety of things. Life and exams is one thing, but a large shift in my writing style and all that is another. For one thing, I don't know about y'all, but I feel as though I've mischaracterised Axel and Larxene horribly in the previous chapter. I'm not sure. But right here, right now, a month since my last update, it looks like that to me and it's just such a horrible sinking feeling. As for my writing style, perhaps it's because I've switched to a darker, more bittersweet and introspective style might be contributing to the aforementioned factor as well. Who knows. _

_Chances are I'll be restarting this challenge from scratch, and maybe not aiming for a hundred themes, ahaha. Very likely, that._


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